


path to panacea

by oviparous



Category: Given (Anime), Given (Manga)
Genre: Angst, Introspection, Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:21:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26857393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oviparous/pseuds/oviparous
Summary: A few angsty episodes of mostly Yuki-related discourse from the viewpoints of Ritsuka and Mafuyu, and a couple of not-so-angsty ones.Note: only chapters 2, 5 and 6 are completely free of spoilers from the manga/movie.
Relationships: Satou Mafuyu/Uenoyama Ritsuka
Comments: 5
Kudos: 38





	1. path

There was a path to the core of Mafuyu’s heart. It seemed treacherous and unwelcoming, and it always began at Ritsuka’s feet.

The path had a name. Its name was Yuki.

Ritsuka knew he would have to face Yuki’s presence at some point, or whatever was left of it. No. _All_ that was left of it. Every ounce, every inch. Yuki was part of Mafuyu’s origin story, after all.

Ritsuka dreaded having to follow that path. He avoided it whenever he could, avoided talking about it, avoided saying its name, avoided asking anyone about it. But it kept beckoning, because Ritsuka agonised over Mafuyu frequently, and every time he searched for answers he’d inevitably start wondering if he should take his very first step on that path. Deep down Ritsuka knew that if he ventured far enough, he’d be able to understand Mafuyu better.

Of course, it would come at a cost.

The fact was that, for everything that Ritsuka didn’t have in common with the guy, they did share the same love. Or, perhaps more accurately, it was a heart. They both occupied the same heart, Ritsuka and Yuki, and there was nothing either of them could do about it. Mafuyu was someone neither of them could give up, no matter the plane of existence.

When Hiiragi asked Ritsuka to make a demo for an unfinished song Yuki wrote, Ritsuka’s first reaction was to try and flee. The mouth of the path at Ritsuka’s feet seemed even more perilous, overgrown with vines, alive and animate, threatening to snare Ritsuka’s feet and take him down and drag his face on gravel. He should’ve known it was futile to run, however; the day he met Mafuyu and all his enigmatic discrepancies, Ritsuka was destined to walk that arduous road.

So Ritsuka summoned every fibre of fortitude he had in his being, and did.

The song didn’t tackle Ritsuka to the ground the way he had expected it to. Instead, it made time stop around him, and enervated him speechless. It wasn’t exactly all jagged edges; its barbed harmonies sheltered a warm melodic line, the first modulation from verse to chorus jarringly discordant yet consistent in its peculiarity. One motif was sheer deviltry, making Ritsuka’s heart stutter as he noted how it was particularly quiet but highly technical, while another one, with its hard-hitting riffs, revealed a punishing honesty, later married to a thirst for resolution, somewhere after what was likely supposed to be the bridge. Throughout its incompletion, there was one more thing, a thing Ritsuka was becoming increasingly familiar with, because loneliness was something Ritsuka often found in Mafuyu as well.

There was a weird thought that kept emerging at the front of Ritsuka’s consciousness as he worked on Yuki’s song, and after he spoke to his sister about his predicament and she mentioned he had to understand Yuki more than anyone else to finish writing it, he let the thought take form instead of pushing it away: there was a high chance that if Yuki were alive, he and Ritsuka could've been friends.

In Yuki’s music there lay a reasonable amount of defiance, deep wells of humour and, oddly, only a smidgen of selfishness. Yuki hadn’t written this song for himself. In every phrase, every textbook-defying syncopation, Ritsuka came to learn that Yuki was someone who coveted perfection in an ideal, and he was willing to commit sacrifices and take risks to achieve it. Ritsuka respected that, as someone who approached music in a similar way. And, ensconced in the nucleus of the song, there was a pulse of someone familiar—barely noticeable, just a kiss of a melodic pattern that Ritsuka had heard before, but there all the same. Ritsuka recognised it because he had experience putting Mafuyu in a song; he knew what it sounded like, and the kind of adoration it evoked. It made Ritsuka wonder if Hiiragi had picked up on this, because if he had, then it would make a lot of sense: this song was an ode to Mafuyu, and what better person to interpret it than someone who also loved Mafuyu that way?

It was nothing short of torture, but Ritsuka didn’t want to ask. He might actually end up killing Hiiragi.

That said, it had been Ritsuka’s choice to tread on this path, and he was determined to see it through. He just needed to complete this journey, this journey of Yuki and Mafuyu, and arrive at his destination still knowing himself, with Mafuyu still belonging to him. There was a promise of closure, that he didn’t need to think about them together ever again.

That notion was fuel for Ritsuka to finish the song, and just when he expected relief he realised, in bone-chilling surprise, that this path named Yuki had merely led him up to a checkpoint: instead of a destination, there was merely another path, because the road to the core of Mafuyu’s heart demanded never-ending exploration.

This new path now also bore his name, and he was terrified, because through discovering Yuki he had also discovered Mafuyu, which meant he now had a measure of how it would feel if Mafuyu ever left.


	2. prodigy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to post sooner, but shortly after I posted the first chapter I signed up for a month-long course that sucked the life out of me but made me grow leaps and bounds as a musician, lol. Anyway, here I am, bearing new chapters!

The truth was, Uenoyama didn’t need Mafuyu.

Mafuyu realised this on a day in June, sometime after Hiiragi paid him a visit on a random rainy weekend and Mafuyu had put into words, for the first time, that he had no idea what to feel about everything.

But there was one thing Mafuyu had been feeling at the time, mostly on days he interacted with Uenoyama and days he didn’t get to see him, and Mafuyu had actually been rather slow at identifying it since he didn’t expect it at all, but there it was, burrowing into his heart with all of Uenoyama’s fierce musical demands, his unconditional kindness, his quasi-maternal concern.

There was a strange familiarity about the feeling, because he associated feelings of romance mainly with Yuki and yet this person wasn’t Yuki—quite different from Yuki, in fact, even if they might have had some things in common—and Mafuyu wondered how it was possible that he was replicating these emotions for another so soon after Yuki died.

The way Mafuyu and Yuki got together was as organic as two people who’d known the other their whole lives could be: there was no ‘please go out with me’, no shy looks behind their friends’ backs, and barely any racing hearts when hands were held, since they’d been doing it since forever. Things just _happened_ , and before Mafuyu knew it, it seemed more natural to be with Yuki than not.

Yuki loved him, and Mafuyu loved Yuki. Mafuyu had needed Yuki. He’d needed Yuki the way Yuki wanted to be needed, and Yuki had needed him back. Or so they thought, because Yuki probably didn’t need Mafuyu enough to continue living for him. Mafuyu didn’t know for sure. Maybe it was unfair to say that Yuki needing Mafuyu was something worth living a life for.

But Uenoyama… Uenoyama was different. He was laconic and reserved as much as Yuki enjoyed being the focus of everyone’s attention, and Mafuyu had rarely seen his face because it was always hidden behind his arm as he napped in class. They’d shared the same classroom twice a week for Physics II in their first year since Uenoyama was from the class next door, and apparently Uenoyama’s regular group of friends were in Physics I so he was even more reticent than usual. Mafuyu only learnt about all of this because Uenoyama was popular amongst the girls, and they’d gossip in class about boys, which was also how Mafuyu heard Uenoyama was still a virgin. It was one of those fun facts about Uenoyama that Mafuyu had mostly forgotten about until he got to know Uenoyama a little better, though in time he realised the adjective ‘virginal’ was actually not a bad way to describe him. In many ways Uenoyama was like a well-cared for seedling that had just risen from the earth, unsolicited by the stresses of the world, undefiled by the loss of innocence, protected by things like love and family and status. It’d always been easy for Mafuyu to notice privilege, being someone who straddled a strata of society quite removed from it, and Uenoyama definitely enjoyed privilege. Not that it was radiating out of his pores, but there was enough of it for Mafuyu to catch a glimpse of his world.

It wasn’t a bad thing that Uenoyama and Mafuyu were from worlds so apart. It made the thought of pursuing Uenoyama a lot less scary should Mafuyu ever decide to act upon his feelings, because the reasons why they couldn’t work out would make a lot of sense. It was counterintuitive to be thinking how a romance could end even before it started, but Mafuyu needed to cling onto a source of comfort, and that thought was it. Knowing that he’d predicted a loss made Mafuyu feel less worried about actually experiencing it.

Uenoyama didn’t need him, because Uenoyama wasn’t broken. And to Mafuyu, that made all the difference.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I refer mainly to the manga when I write (and all quotes from it, I translate by myself). In the manga, it was established that when Ritsuka first met Mafuyu he already knew Mafuyu was from the class next door, he just couldn’t remember his name. In the anime, however, this wasn’t portrayed, and Mafuyu later asked Ritsuka outrightly who he was, before spacing out (possibly trying to match a face to a name). At the back of the first tankobon of the manga, by the way, we have Mafuyu talking to Akihiko about Ritsuka’s popularity in school, and he (Mafuyu) mentions something about Ritsuka being a virgin, lol. No big spoilers for the panel, but it’s at the end of Volume 1 for those who haven’t read it!


	3. prayer

Their Social Studies teacher had asked them to form groups, so Ritsuka automatically turned his desk to team up with Itaya and Ueki. After months of sitting in the same row thanks to their surnames all starting with vowels, they were spending almost every lunch hour together now, so Ritsuka supposed he could actually call them his ‘friends from high school’. 

“Groups of _four_ , please,” their teacher requested when she saw the group Ritsuka formed, and the three boys looked around for someone without a group.

“Kasai,” called Ritsuka, as he saw her losing a game of rock-paper-scissors with her four friends. Ritsuka liked Kasai; she was intelligent and eloquent and often reminded him of his sister, except without the snark and vexatious grumbling. Kasai sat in the next row, across the aisle from Ueki, and had been in their group several times before, though mainly for English. It wasn’t the first time she’d be with them for a discussion.

The class was tasked to think about traditional roles within a family and insert themselves into each role, before giving justifications as to why the choice was made. They would then attempt to subvert these roles, explaining why they didn’t feel they were a fit for the role, or why the role wasn’t suited for them, and how they can modify their roles with the help of external or internal factors.

“As you can see, there are two parts to this activity—I advise you to approach this step-by-step and go with your stereotypes first, however terrible they may be, before trying to deconstruct them,” said their teacher. “I suggest you think about your own personalities, or let your classmates tell you what they’ve observed about you, then try assigning an identity to yourself based on who you are. Our end goal is to consider how things like gender and economic status impact familial roles, and hopefully we’ll be able to tear down some of your preconceived notions about who is supposed to do what in a family, and in society.”

Ritsuka wasn’t too psyched about Social Studies, but it was a lot easier to handle than Classics and he wasn’t feeling sleepy at that time of day, so he decided to suck it up and participate. Besides, the activity wasn’t boring—his mum earned more than his dad and his sister lorded over him, so he had firsthand experience when it came to deconstructing societal stereotypes. It would be interesting to see what his friends had to say.

“If we’re doing stereotypes based on personality, Uenoyama’s the mum,” said Itaya, right off the bat.

“Me? The mum?” asked Ritsuka, completely befuddled. “Why?”

“A vibe,” said Itaya. “Actually I was thinking you could be the dad, but you’re not the traditional dad type. You may seem like it at first glance, but you don’t, like, expect people to serve you.”

Ritsuka looked to Ueki and Kasai for help, but they too were nodding. 

“If I had to go to any one of you for help, I’d go to you,” said Kasai. “Not that Itaya-kun and Ueki-kun aren’t reliable, but they come across as the brotherly type. You don’t.”

“I’m literally someone’s brother.”

“Yeah, but that isn’t the first task. We're trying to decide who fits in which traditional role first. You get to deconstruct it _after_.”

“Fair enough, but look—I’m hardly nurturing. I was never that kid who asked their parents for a pet,” Ritsuka pointed out.

“Not all mums are nurturing,” argued Itaya.

“Uecchi, I think we’re trying to say you’re… nice,” said Ueki, finally breaking his silence.

“That’s it?” said Ritsuka, blinking. “‘Nice’? That’s the adjective you’re going to associate with a mother?”

“No, it’s more like—you’re kind, and you don’t make it a big deal,” said Ueki.

Itaya lurched forward, excited to speak. “Remember when I made this passing remark about needing teammates for lunchtime basketball?”

“It wasn’t a ‘passing remark’, Itaya. You were moaning about it all day.”

“Yeah, but you just showed up at the gym and went ‘I’ll play’, and I remember thinking, ‘Wow this dude is super casual, that’s cool’.”

“I still don’t see how this links to being the mum,” said Ritsuka, getting embarrassed from all the compliments.

“Someone whom others can go to for help, and gives help unconditionally,” said Kasai, as if she were thinking out loud. “That’s motherly, don’t you think?”

“Oh, Uenoyama isn’t just helpful,” said Itaya, laughing. “He’s beyond that. I’ve seen him volunteer to carry stuff for teachers he doesn’t even like.”

“I don’t dislike any teachers,” protested Ritsuka.

Itaya offered him a raised eyebrow. “Even Hosoya-sensei? You’re always going on about how bad he is at explaining concepts.”

“Well, yeah, but that’s got nothing to do with his ability to move stacks of books. The guy’s ancient—his back looked like it was gonna snap,” said Ritsuka.

“He can’t be _that_ weak if he’s still walking,” said Itaya, rolling his eyes.

“That’s the kind of thing a mum would teach her child to do, right?” said Ueki, thoughtfully. “Leading by example and everything.”

Ritsuka was thinking about how he was going to deconstruct all of this when Kasai said:

“I guess as a person, Uenoyama-kun’s weak to the weak,” said Kasai with a smile. “You’re just drawn to people who need help, maybe.”

Less than a year later, when Mafuyu stayed over at his place for the first time, Ritsuka found himself replaying Kasai’s words over and over again in his head as he fisted the back of Mafuyu’s shirt, pulling him as close as he dared, wondering if he only fell in love with Mafuyu because he wanted to help.


	4. prelude

Ugetsu’s confession sliced open a wound on Mafuyu’s conscience, but he couldn’t put a finger on why. He felt compassion and pity for Ugetsu, but there was also a feeling of something else he couldn’t name, yet was somehow strangely familiar.

_I just wanted someone to understand me… even if it’s just a little bit._

And Mafuyu did understand. He knew what pain tasted like, and he was all too familiar with forced departures. But this funny little feeling that nagged in his gut like a spot of indigestion wasn’t about loving or losing. It was something else.

 _There was no one else in the world who was driving the other into the corner but ourselves._

Why thinking about Ugetsu and Kaji gave him so much malaise, Mafuyu longed to learn.

The days that ensued saw Mafuyu in the throes of a creative dearth. Many a sleepless night was spent thinking about the unwritten lyrics of his song: what did he want to say with it? What were the feelings he wanted to convey? If he wrote something that was all about Uenoyama it could only sound cheap. Uenoyama deserved better, especially after Mafuyu put him through that first song—whoever knew about Mafuyu and Yuki would know who it was about. If this new song was going to carry a message, Mafuyu didn’t want it to be about himself, or who he loved. He wanted it to be a sentiment that was known by everyone, that lived in everyone.

Why, he couldn’t really say, but it had to do with that still-nameless unease he’d brought home from Ugetsu’s place.

“You’ve been spending all your time thinking of the lyrics, haven’t you?” asked Ritsuka, seeing past all of Mafuyu’s poor attempts to stifle his yawns.

Mafuyu was startled; he hadn’t imagined Ritsuka to have noticed.

“I feel like I’m missing a piece,” confessed Mafuyu, wishing he were better with words.

“You’re the sort that draws inspiration from the feelings that are actually within you, or from the people around you,” said Ritsuka. “So why not go look for that missing piece?”

Mafuyu had been agonising over the lyrics for so long, assuming they were something he had to create—it hadn’t occurred to him it was something he could _find_.

“Okay. I’ll do that,” he told Ritsuka, before touching his fingers to the back of Ritsuka’s hand, enjoying the sight of Ritsuka turning his face away as he blushed to the tips of his ears.

Ritsuka’s advice led Mafuyu to Ugetsu once more. It made a lot of sense that it was Ugetsu he was looking up: the discomfiture started in Ugetsu’s home. With Ugetsu, with Kaji.

Mafuyu raised a finger to the doorbell; it was time to get rid of this writer’s block.

The doorbell was either not working, or Ugetsu couldn’t hear it from the basement—the latter was unlikely, because Mafuyu had been let in before just by pressing this very button—and Mafuyu was about to try again when he heard the sound of something crashing, probably to the floor. Acting purely on instinct, he put his hand on the handle of the door and swung it open.

The last time a door that was supposed to be locked opened for Mafuyu he had found Yuki behind it, gone too far to come back; it had left a knot sitting in his heart, gathered sinews of loss and yearning that threatened to fray if he shed too many tears over it.

“Excuse me…” Mafuyu called out, as his eyes fell on Ugetsu. “I heard some loud noises, and the door was open—”

“You must’ve had a fright,” said Ugetsu, a picture of astonished disappointment. “…I thought Akihiko had come back.”

It was because Mafuyu carried that knot in his heart that he understood whatever Ugetsu was saying, what he was feeling. Unfortunately, because of its familiarity, Mafuyu was also able to discern that the root of his writer’s block wasn’t the knot. There was something else with everything that Mafuyu was picking up, but… what was it?

"Kaji-san isn't in?" asked Mafuyu, even though he already knew the answer.

“Did you come for Akihiko?” asked Ugetsu, turning away.

"No... I came for you, Ugetsu-san," said Mafuyu, hearing his voice pitch high.

"Me?" Ugetsu's eyes went wide. Mafuyu then went on to ask if he could watch Ugetsu's practice, hoping he wasn't being weird.

That night, as Mafuyu lay in bed, thinking of the conversation he had with Ugetsu as they sat in his kitchen, a particular sentence kept repeating itself:

_I wish at least the music could stay behind._

The music...

Mafuyu shot up in bed, sweat beading his forehead. He realised what it pointed to.

It was music that had driven Ugetsu and Kaji apart. Music, the one thing that drew them close and even closer, the one thing they both loved. And that was the problem—they couldn’t share it. They each wanted to own it, and it made up a strange love triangle they could never disentangle themselves from.

And hadn’t it been the same for Mafuyu?

It was music that had stolen Yuki away first, not death. Music then went on to take his friends. Yet, it was also music that had helped to loosen the knot in his heart, alleviate some of his wretchedness, even lead him to someone whom he could safely say he loved. Like a story mired in irony, Mafuyu had come to love music like every hero who fell for the enemy. This made things terrifying, because who could say music wouldn't take it all away again? Music, with its beauty, its charms, its wickedness.

Mafuyu cradled his face in his hands, finally figuring out how to deal with the lyrics, and with it, the reason for his malaise.

He was jealous of music. He always had been, and probably always will be.

**Author's Note:**

> I thought I was done writing for given, but it turns out I have these little essays about the characters that are writing themselves in my head... I understand it may be boring for some, but I need a place to word-vomit and I thought I'd share it with people, because why not. :)


End file.
